


Something Odd Even for a Group of Super-Losers

by Le_kunokimchi



Series: Prancing Around Insanity's Lot [7]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, BAMF Ben Hargreeves, BAMF Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves-centric, Character Study, Dark Humor, Death Threats, Kinda, Mild Language, Number Two REALLY wants to be leader, Other, POV Ben Hargreeves, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 02, Threats of Violence, Unreliable Narrator, based on sparrow academy dynamics speculation, he's kind of a jerk, how i hope sparrow ben and klaus's first meeting goes, nobody dies though as far as you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_kunokimchi/pseuds/Le_kunokimchi
Summary: “How do you know my name?”“I’m good with faces; would never forget one. Although, with the scar,” he waved his lissome fingers through the air in a gesture to Ben’s face, “You look more like a Carlos.”“Carl- What the fuck? Do I even look remotely Hispanic to you?” Ben questioned, irritation beginning to pulse through a vein on his forehead.The man’s eyebrows raise subtly, lips pursing in consideration. “Hm, I guess not. I didn’t know Carlos was a Hispanic name; you learn something new everyday.”“You know what: why the fuck am I even talking to you? I could just kill you right now.”“Right? That’s what I was wondering,” the man agreed with a satisfied nod of his head, “Most people just swing and end their misery already; but you do you, I don't discriminate.”ORThe one where looks can be deceiving and Ben really should have realized that he was Number Two for a reason
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Prancing Around Insanity's Lot [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779967
Comments: 26
Kudos: 193





	Something Odd Even for a Group of Super-Losers

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm back? Kinda. I really wanted to write a dynamic between Number TWO (I can't believe they didn't make sparrow Ben number one, ngl I'm devastated that my other sparrow fanfics are MORE WRONG UGHHH THE AGONY) and Klaus so surprise! A new fic!  
> Sparrow Ben is a pompous ass who thinks he should be leader because he's stronger than everyone (news flash: he finds out he's not). All the character personality and names of the other sparrows I got from the official TUA instagram so don't attack me, alright? The profile for Sparrow Ben said that he wanted to work hard to prove himself as leader and that he was more than a pretty boy so... Here we are!
> 
> Anyways,  
> Enjoy my loveliesss

They didn’t seem overly impressive. 

Sure, they got the big guy with serious steroid issues.

Then there’s that woman with the glowing white irises- not  _ too _ concerning.

The shaggy-looking man was holding a simple knife in his hand (a knife, seriously? Who brings a knife to a superpower showdown?) 

That tall lady with the dark skin seemed to have  _ something  _ up her sleeve if that smug yet daunting glint to her eyes was anything to go by.

And this little tween didn’t really fit into the equation for  _ obvious  _ reasons (his gaze was old though, strangely, like he has been to hell and back. Poor thing has been putting on some city miles); his jaw was clenched and he seemed reluctant to move anyways. 

But the lengthy fella with the half-a-century-old hat: he was  _ definitely _ the odd man out here. Nothing about him screamed,  _ hey I have a special ability and I’m here to kick your ass with it. _

He didn’t seem threatening with his scrawny appearance and careless posture; he wasn’t even in a defensive stance. There was no surge of power in the room like the others had caused; there was no malicious intent behind his thin-lipped mouth or bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

And maybe, deep down, Number Two had hoped that they  _ all  _ would be a challenge; he hoped that he could defeat at least three of them single handedly and finally prove his worth. And if he couldn’t get that, then he at least wanted to defeat more of these posers than Marcus.

But would it really be a valiant and reputation 

boosting fight if they were as weak as they looked?

No, absolutely not. 

But does Ben care if Father didn't know exactly _how_ strong his opponents were? 

Not at all. Quantity over quality when you’re the only person who truly knows the quality. 

And that is exactly what he was thinking as he went striding across the room and knocked out the knife wielder with a single swing. One down. He was then charged by the giant with a playboy face; Ben was quicker and more agile for blatant reasons, ducking under the swinging arm with ease and having time to spin away as the small kid appeared in the air above him (okay so he can teleport or something? That makes the tween a little more interesting, he supposes). But as the short and pale woman began floating, he didn’t have time to worry about the inevitable three on one before he heard Marcus bark some orders for the others to join in.

It was pretty disappointing: now he had limited choice of his opponents… But at least his  _ glorious  _ Number One (as in one word: ew) was battling it out with the telekinesis (..?) chick so now Ben didn’t have to worry about  _ possibly  _ losing right in front of all their siblings and Father. So he finishes his fight with the big man, leaves him crippled and unconscious near the wall, as he scouts around for the next person to serve as his practice dummy. Two down. Quantity, quantity, quantity; and with the other Sparrows taking on the obnoxiously stronger ones, he could pick off the weaklings without a single scratch (more like  _ another  _ scratch) to his pretty face and  _ still  _ say he defeated the  _ most _ .

Then his brown eyes catch on the next victim: the odd string bean with the cowboy hat. He’s not even trying to fight, just off in the corner watching the anarchy unfold. Nobody seems to notice him, the others clearly having something to prove, so he just sits quietly and observes. It bothers Ben, to be honest; how could the man just leave his siblings to get pounded like that? He clearly wasn’t a leader, that’s for  _ sure. _ He clearly had no motivations or desires and perhaps even  _ no powers _ . If Ben was a gentle soul, he’d almost feel  _ bad  _ for defeating this guy with barely a lift of his finger; but he’s  _ not  _ so, if anything, he’d think of it as doing these assholes a favor for getting rid of their straggler.

“Oh what do we have here?” Number Two mock coos, rounding the table top with his eyes hungrily locked on, “Thought you could hide and have your big siblings take care of the problem for you?” He gives a faux pout, “How sad for you that they won’t be winning.”

The man’s expression is hard to read but there definitely isn’t any fear in his gaze as it meets Ben’s; just indifference, maybe a smidge of amusement by the slight quirk to their lips but it also could have been a nervous tick or Ben just imagined it as his desire for somebody  _ worthy  _ of actually being defeated with his  _ powers  _ continued to grow. 

The olive green orbs drift back to where their other siblings are quarreling (in a dismissal, if you ask Ben). Doesn’t this guy fear failure? Death?  _ Anything _ ? Is he really going to just let Two bonk him over the head without even a  _ tiny  _ bit of struggle? Well this doesn’t seem like a fun fight at all; in fact, it’s a little insulting. Not everybody gets the honor of fighting a worthy opponent like Ben; he might as well just have Christopher come over here and sit on the man to keep him from going anywhere. This is lame, so lame. Boring. Screw quantity; Marcus can get his mighty ass over here and do it. Maybe Fei could use some help with the tween; he has never battled a space-jumper before-

“So you gonna knock me out? Kill me maybe?” the man says suddenly, attention still on the other side of the room despite his question being directed to Ben, “Not that you aren’t interesting and all but I’m not really one for patience.”

Number Two blinks. “Huh?”

“Come on, bad Benny. Gimme the old one-two, that sorta thing. Really, if you came all the way over here for nothing I might as well just go get myself a drink: at least that would make my brain a good kind of fuzzy.”

“What the hell?” Ben muttered, staring at this weirdo in bewilderment. Did he just  _ ask to be knocked out? _ And for a  _ drink _ ? Doesn’t he realize the kind of danger he’s in right now? The kind of danger his  _ family  _ is currently facing? Does he really not care? 

Forget being just weak and powerless: he’s standing off to the side because he’s stupid. Only an idiot would ask Ben to- wait. “How do you know my name?”

This time, the man spares him a glance. “I’m good with faces; would never forget one. Although, with the scar,” he waved his lissome fingers through the air in a gesture to Ben’s face, “You look more like a Carlos.”

“Carl- What the fuck? Do I even look remotely Hispanic to you?” Ben questioned, irritation beginning to pulse through a vein on his forehead.

The man’s eyebrows raise subtly, lips pursing in consideration. “Hm, I guess not. I didn’t know Carlos was a Hispanic name; you learn something new everyday.” He turned back to the fight.

“You...  _ guess _ ? Frickin moron, you still never-” he paused, remembering his reason for engaging in this stupidity in the first place, “You know what: why the fuck am I even talking to you? I could just kill you right now.”

“Right? That’s what I was wondering,” the man agreed with a satisfied nod of his head, “Most people just swing and end their misery already; but you do you, I don't discriminate.”

Okay he had to be fucking with him now, right? Ben has never been so confused and  _ frustrated  _ in his entire life. “I could literally crack your skull against the floor-”

The man drawls with a small shrug, “Eh; been there, done that. Next.”

Ben’s mouth opens and then closes, brow furrowing. “You don’t just get to choose-!”

“Then at least be a  _ bit  _ creative; I mean, come on, have some originality, Benny.”

“I could torture you for hours if I wanted! And it’s  _ Ben _ , not Benny!”

“Whatever you say, Benji, but could you get on with it? I really have places to go, people to see,” the look the man sends him was now one of  _ disinterest _ (the nerve of this  _ dumbass _ ), “Chop, chop. You either kill me or you don’t. I can’t go making all the decisions here: that’s not how a relationship works.”

“I’m going to rip your fucking throat out in a minute,” Ben snarls beneath his breath, fists shaking at his side with the amount of fury he was trying to contain like a  _ good, calm, collected, and wise  _ hero. Because he most definitely didn’t have  _ anger issues _ or a  _ short temper _ , he was as cool as a cucumber under  _ any  _ circumstance and that’s why he would be such a  _ great  _ leader.

“Ooo~” the man says with a noticeable perk to his form, “That’s more like it! I’ve never seen that done before, in person I mean. Just the after effects; doesn’t sound too pleasant, I’m sure you can imagine-”

“Shut up you fucking piece of  _ dead weight _ . Nobody will save you, nobody will even notice you’re gone; you’re utterly useless,” Ben hissed venomously, a smirk twitching his features as the man turned to him with wide eyes.

But his face immediately falls when instead of pleading or crying like  _ normal people do _ , the man bursts into a fit of laughter with mirthful knee slaps and all. 

“DEAD WEIGHT! HA! Oh my, I wish Diego was awake to hear that one,” he bubbles before giving Ben a frown (probably at the sight of him literally mere _seconds_ away from spontaneously _combusting_ in rage), “Hey now, stop that: you might give yourself an aneurysm.”

Ben bared his teeth, a growl working its way past his lips, “I’m going to kill you, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“So you’ve said,” the man replied, propping his chin up on the elbow that was pressed to his knee, “I’m still waiting though-”

And, just like that, the dam bursts. “WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM, FREAK?! RUN! SCREAM! ATTACK ME! DO SOMETHING!”

“Aw and why would I do that?”

“YOUR SIBLINGS ARE LITERALLY FIGHTING FOR THEIR LIVES RIGHT NOW! AND YOU’RE JUST-” Ben throws his hands into the air, “SITTING HERE!”

“Oh,” the man mumbles, seeming to contemplate his words for a moment.

“Yeah! You and all your siblings are going to die and you’ve spent the last ten minutes practically signing your death wish-”

“-you really don’t know my powers, do you?”

Ben stops, “ _ What? _ ”

“My powers, you know; we’re all supers here, silly.”

He’s still processing, confusion consuming his features. “Wha- Why- How the hell would _ I _ know what  _ your _ powers are?”

The man shrugs. “I don’t know; most people have a good idea of what they’re up against when they threaten to kill someone and all of those in their vicinity.” He stands, brushing off his pants and cracking his knuckles. “I guess Daddy just doesn't make heroes like he used to, hm?”

The annoyance came back in trickles, Ben scowling at the man’s condescending tone and nonchalant disregard for the hot water he was in. 

“Who are you then, smartass?”

“Klaus,” he casts a smile, placing his hands on his hips, “Man you didn’t know my name either? And you were willing to kill me,  _ me _ , without even knowing who I was first; if I didn’t know any better, I would think I was in Vietnam again.”

“Vietnam?  _ Again _ ?” Ben could feel it now: the  _ surge  _ of energy crackling through the air, gathering around the man and igniting his irises with a bluish hue. 

He braces himself, wary of what this  _ Klaus  _ was capable of. 

“Yeah,  _ the _ ‘Nam. I know what you’re thinking though and I totally agree,” the man faces him head-on, a crazed twinge to his expression that makes Ben’s skin crawl, “I’m  _ way _ too pretty to be a soldier. Alas, those days are over, no worries; someone as great as me in another war wouldn’t make the playing field very fair.” There’s a glow starting at his fingertips, slowly crawling its way up the palm of his hand.

But Ben is a  _ fearless  _ opponent, he  _ wanted  _ a challenge; he wanted someone  _ worthy  _ to face him! So he holds his ground and questions, “If you’re so  _ great _ , how come I’ve never heard of you?”  _ Klaus can’t be that strong, he can’t; it’s not possible. His siblings barely noticed his existence: he can’t be that important. _

The man grins, something wicked and eerie about the way his jaw audibly clicks, “Well not a lot of people are believers, you see. Even my own family for a while seemed to forget what being  _ The Seánce _ really entails.”

His face blanches, a shiver running up his spine (he’s not sure why, but he has never really liked ghosts; must be a phobia induced by a past life sort of thing). “S-So what, you talk to ghosts; big deal,” he tries to play it off, rolling his eyes, “That won’t save you from the real world.”

Klaus cackles, a draft falling over the room and Ben watches from the corner of his vision that they have caught even  _ Marcus’s  _ attention.

“It won’t save you  _ either _ , Benario. Would you like to know why?”

The man takes a step towards him, a string of quiet murmurs tickling the ears of everyone in the room. Ben watches as shadows dance across the walls and thinks he might have heard Marcus order him to get away from Klaus but it’s too late, the blue and the mumbles and the brushing of phantom fingers along his sides has him unable to look away, unable to move.

“Why?” he breathes.

Klaus is only a foot away now, leaning into Ben’s personal space with a lick of his lips. “Because I don’t  _ just  _ talk to the dead.”

He swallows, captivated by the baleful spark in his eyes. “You can… summon the dead?”

“ _ Ben, retreat right now!” _

_ “Number Two, what are you doing? You heard your leader: fall back!” _

_ “Ben! Move!” _

“Getting closer,” he feels the man’s breath upon his face, sees the illuminated cerulean forms of all  _ too  _ familiar faces closing in around him.

He’s scared, he’s frozen; he’s not strong enough not strong enough not strong enough.

_ “BEN!” _

Shakily, he whispers, “W-What  _ are  _ you?”

Klaus’s eyes crinkle with smile lines, the scuffling sounds and ghastly mutterings seeming to cease as the world halted in anticipation. 

“I  _ am  _ the dead, darling,” he says delightedly and although his gaze never left his, Ben knew he was addressing the entire room when he added, “And unless you would all care to join me, I suggest you surrender  _ now. _ ”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Quick note since the first one was long:  
> Can we like protect all Bennys? Even when I write him as kind of a dick, I still love him


End file.
